We cannot be quiet

Elizabeth Foss|
For the Catholic Herald

10/10/18

I sat in a coffee shop one night recently, trying to tap out a
few thousand words before picking up my girls at dance. I know that it is
unreasonable to expect a coffee shop to be a quiet place to work; it’s not
intended to be a mocha-scented open floor plan office for any and all who
wander in. It’s a gathering spot. People should gather there and enjoy coffee
and conversation.

But on this evening, every table was taken, and each of us had
our tables to ourselves. No one was having in-person conversations. It should
have been fairly quiet there. It wasn’t. Every time the man next to me got an
email or a text message or social media notification, his phone chimed. Varying
tones rang out, depending on the origin of the incoming message. The dude was
super popular. And I sat there for half an hour trying to decide which would
win: my inner reserve and extreme shyness or the fact that those tones might as
well have been fingernails screeching across a chalkboard. I could not think
for all his smartphone noise.

We cannot be quiet. Our world is over-saturated with sensory
stimulation, brimming beyond full with noisy distractions. To the ubiquitous
televisions of the last generation, we have added laptops and tablets, and
palm-sized computers we carry everywhere so that we are tethered to the internet
and all its noisy insistence that we attend to whatever has chimed in our
pockets.

We have forgotten how to be without sound. Until our society
learns this spiritual discipline anew, we are going to keep missing each other
and God in conversation. God calls each of us into a love affair with him — a
deeply connected, intimate relationship. And the noise keeps us from
connection. Both human relationships and spiritual ones require intentional
reflection and uninterrupted attention. We need quiet in order to function as
we were created.

Is it any wonder we look up from Twitter and Facebook and feel
nothing but hopelessness? The noise there is deafening. We can’t hear each
other and we can’t hear God. When we learn to quiet the noise of our
increasingly noisy world, we will hear God. In his whisper are the words that
give us a genuine, joy-filled life. There, we will know that he is near, and we
will become aware of what keeps us from him and how much more he intends for us
than what is blaring from that palm-sized screen.

Turn off all the notifications. Challenge yourself to go for
increasingly longer periods without touching anything electronic. Grant
yourself small windows of silence during your day. Notice. See where God is in
your everyday world. See how he moves and what he says. He’s been there all
along, waiting for you to be quiet enough to hear him. Lean into those moments
of quiet and grow to appreciate them as the simple gifts that fill you with
what is good and true.

At first, moments of silence will feel odd and awkward. We are
used to being wired into the noise. But those are not circuits intended by our creator.
We were created for uninterrupted communion with God. We were created to be
still and drink deep from the well of his presence. Silence means we have time
and space to reflect on his faithfulness. It also means we give him the
opportunity to point out our transgressions. Silence brings awareness.
Awareness opens us up to honesty in our relationship with God.

The spiritual practice of being quiet before the Lord might be
the most practical thing you can do today. It will likely give your noisy,
crowded brain a chance to connect with the reality of God. Then, your heart
will open, too, allowing itself to be filled with purest love. A few moments of
silence could prove to be life-changing.

Foss, whose website is takeupandread.org, is a
freelance writer from Northern Virginia.